Bring Her Home
by See Jane Write
Summary: Allison keeps having dreams of her cousin Alex whom she believes is dead. Can she figure out what it means before it is too late? Crossover with Medium.
1. Chapter 1

Bring Her Home

Summary: Allison keeps having dreams of her cousin Alex whom she believes is dead. Medium/ Law and Order: SVU crossover.

Spoilers: _SVU_: "Loss", "Ghost". _Medium_: none for the moment

Author's Note: Pretty random. Inspired from the fact that Patricia Arquette reminded me of Stephanie March during last night's _Medium_ for some reason. Anyway, let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: I do not own _Medium_. I do not own _SVU. _Beginning dream taken from the episode "Loss" of SVU. I know this is a shocker, but I don't own that either.

* * *

_Alexandra Cabot was walking out of a restaurant. It was unfamiliar, but it had to have been in New York City. She only had a few more steps to go then she would be on the sidewalk. Two of her friends, detectives most likely, were with her. A man was right behind her, and there was a woman behind him._

_"Can I get you a cab?" the male detective asked as Alex neared the top of the steps._

_"No, I'm not far," Alex responded as she stepped onto the sidewalk. "I'll walk. Thanks, though."_

_By this time, the three of them were on the sidewalk. A corner was behind them, and they continued walking away from it. Unnoticed by the three of them, a car rounded the corner slowly._

_"Look, I'm sorry I'm such a buzz kill," Alex said._

_"Oh, don't be silly," the woman responded. "It's late."_

_The car was slowly following them. The window rolled down. Without any warning, a hand appeared from the window. A single gunshot was heard._

_"Get down!" the man yelled._

_Two more shots were fired. The shooter in the car yelled, "Go, go, go." The car sped off. The male detective began chasing it._

_The female detective was kneeling down on the ground. Something was not right. She turned around. "Alex," she yelled. She turned around fully. Alex was lying on the sidewalk, face up. Her arms were at both her sides. She was not moving._

_"No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," the female was saying as she approached Alex. She was hovering above the ADA. Her hands were on the ground at either side of Alex. She looked up. "Somebody call an ambulance!" she begged. "Call 911 now!"_

_The man stopped chasing the car. It was too fast. He started his trek back to the two women._

_"Alex. It's ok, Alex. Alex, look at me," the female detective said in a soothing tone. "It's ok, sweetie. Stay with me. Stay with me. Stay with me, Alex." Her tone shifting. She was very concerned. Her hand was over the gun wound on Alex's right shoulder. "They're coming right now. You're going to be okay."_

_The man approached them. He was panting and out of breath, but he was still very concerned. This was too much of a shock._

_"Alex, you're gonna be okay. Look at me. You're gonna be just fine. You're gonna be just fine. Now, just stay with me," the woman begged. She turned back to the man for a second, but he was still out of breath and shocked to do anything. She turned back to Alex. "Alex, Alex, Alex, Alex. It's okay. Look at me," she whispered._

_Nothing._

_

* * *

_

DuBois residence

Phoenix, Arizona

October 10, 2005

Allison DuBois awoke with a gasp. She sat up in bed, waking up her more than understanding husband Joe. Her heart was beating quickly. Tears were filling in her eyes.

"What is it?" Joe asked. Though his voice gave away the fact that he was tired, it was clear that he cared. He looked over at Allison. Was she crying? "Al, what is it?" he asked as he sat up and wrapped an arm around her.

"Remember my cousin Alex?" Allison asked.

"The ADA from New York?" Joe asked back. Allison nodded. "Yea, I remember her," Joe said. He had only met Alex a few times. She was at their wedding and a few Christmases since then, but her busy schedule combined with the large distance from New York City to Phoenix made it almost impossible for her to visit. Her small apartment ruled out possibilities for them visiting her. "What about her, sweetie?"

"I just saw her die," Allison answered.

Joe gave her a look of confusion. "Not to be rude or anything, but didn't she die two years ago?"

"Two years on Friday." Allison met his look. "I just don't understand why I'm dreaming this. I mean, she's dead. I went to her funeral. There isn't anything I can do. Why?" She moved in closer and buried her head in Joe's chest. A few tears rolled from her eyes onto Joe's shirt.

"Again, I'm not trying to be disrespectful," Joe began. He knew how sensitive this was to his wife. He had heard stories of how close the two of them were growing up. "Isn't it possible that you were only dreaming? The mind dreams weird things."

"But it has to mean something," Allison said.

"I think it does," Joe agreed. "I think it means that the second anniversary of Alex's death is approaching. This is your way of making sense out of an extremely unfortunately situation."

Allison flopped back onto the bed. "You're probably right," she noted. "I hate that about you, you know."

"Just get some sleep," Joe said. He kept his arm around her and remained awake until Allison drifted back to sleep.

* * *

_A hospital room. A very white hospital room. A very white and private hospital room. Security surrounded the outside of the room, and U.S. marshals were inside it. It must have been an important patient._

_The patient awoke slowly. Her eyes fluttered a few times before she could open them all the way. She tried to stretch, but then instantly felt pain in her right arm. That was what really woke her up. Her arms recoiled back to her body. Her eyes were open wide as she looked around in confusion._

_"Miss Cabot?" the first marshal asked. He grabbed a blanket from the end of the bed and draped it over the patient's shoulders._

_The patient nodded. "What's going on?" she demanded. "Where am I?"_

_"Miss Cabot, there was an attempt at taking your life tonight. There are no doubts that the order to kill you came from Cesar Valez," the marshal explained._

_Alex was taken aback. "What?" She had heard the words. It made sense. What did not make sense was all of the marshals in her room. "Where are Olivia and Elliot?" she demanded. "I want to go home now."_

_"Miss Cabot, you can't go home. As far as the world outside this room is concerned, you are dead. Valez is powerful, Miss Cabot. As long as he knows that you are alive, he will stop at nothing to kill you. Until he is extradited or otherwise dealt with, you are better off dead." The marshal's voice was firm. He knew what was happening. He knew how serious this was._

_"But what about Olivia?" Alex demanded. "And Elliot, and my mother? I refuse to let them go on with their lives thinking that I'm dead. It's not true."_

_"Alexandra, this is serious," the marshal whispered harshly. He had to keep his voice down. Luckily for him, Alex was still too weak to be speaking in loud enough voices to reach the hallways. "The more people that know, the easier it will be for Valez to get to you."_

_"No," Alex tried to yell. She leapt from the bed and rushed to the small window on her hospital door. She could see Elliot and Olivia outside down the hall. One of the doctors was standing with them. Elliot was holding Olivia tightly. Olivia's entire body was shaking._

_"Bastard," Alex called. "I'm not dead! I'm right here."_

_"Miss Cabot!" the marshal scolded as he approached her. He took her delicately away from the window. With one hand, he covered her mouth. He slowly eased her back to her bed._

_One figure moved past the crowd of marshals. "Miss Cabot, you've had a rough day."_

_"Bull," Alex responded. "Agent Hammond, you have no idea what I'm going through. Look at Olivia. I cannot let her think this."_

_"Alex, this all has to die down. In a few weeks, I'll see what I can do. Until then, you are considered dead. Until we can establish a new identity for you, you will be protected…"_

_

* * *

_

DuBois residence

Phoenix, Arizona

October 10, 2005

Allison sat up again. She was not crying. As a matter of fact, she was overcome with relief and happiness. She turned to Joe and began shaking him awake. "Joe," she whispered.

"Al," he mumbled as he opened one eye to look at the clock. "Al, it's five-thirty in the morning. What could be so important that it couldn't wait another hour and a half?"

"The fact that it's seven thirty in New York City," Allison answered.

"And is this relevant, or are you just dazzling me with your command of time zones?" Joe muttered. It was too early for this. He had already been woken up once by one of Allison's dreams. He did need to get some sleep if he was going to have a successful day at work.

"Yes, it's relevant," Allison answered. "Joe, she's alive. Alex is alive. That shooting didn't kill her. She's alive."

* * *

((More to come soon. Until then, feedback is welcomed and appreciated. Much love.)) 


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: I am sorry for the delay. I honestly did not know where to go. However, with the start of Conviction, I have a perfect idea. Yay. And this is taking place in the world where "Ghost" did not happen since it will not flow with what I have planned.

* * *

Chapter Two

DuBois residence

Phoenix, Arizona

October 10, 2005

"Al, what are you saying?" Joe asked as he sat up a little further on the bed. It was too early in the morning for all of this. He loved Allison dearly, but he sometimes hated her gift.

Allison rolled out of bed and rushed over to the phone. She picked up the cordless phone and turned back to Joe. "I'm saying that she's alive," Allison repeated. "The man who murdered her did not actually murder her. She survived. She's in protective custody or something." With that said, Allison returned her attention to the phone and started dialing.

"What are you doing?" Joe asked. "It's five-thirty. No one is awake."

"Calling the airlines," Allison answered simply. "I want to leave for New York by tonight." She turned back to Joe. "I don't mind going alone, but we could all go. That could be a fun family trip."

Joe grabbed the phone from her and hung it up. "Yes, New York would be a fun family trip. However, it's October. The girls have school. You and I have to work. We cannot just go to New York based on one of your hunches."

"But I saw her," Allison argued. "I saw her the night of the shooting. She was in the hospital, and she survived. I swear it's true."

Joe inched closer to Allison and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. "And I know you think that, honey," he said. "It could very well be the truth, but it doesn't have to be. Look, prior to your dreams about Alex, what was the last dream you had?"

Allison could see where Joe was headed. She knew he had a point. She groaned slightly before she answered. "Marie was the President of the United States, but all she cared about was changing the national anthem to the _Dora_ theme song. The real power behind her presidency was Donald Trump because apparently he married her."

"See, now is that a prophecy that Donald Trump is a creepy pedophile? Is our daughter political?" Joe asked her.

"This is different," Allison argued. "That one about Marie obviously didn't make sense. She's two, Joe. That could never happen, but this could."

"Ok, fine, different approach," Joe said. "Look, Al, not even all of your case dreams are true. You remember that one with the guy who flew the plane? You were convinced that because you saw him flying it, then he did not kill his wife." He sighed as he gently eased her back down. "Al, I'm not saying that you're wrong, but I'd like you to consider that possibility before you go darting across the country." He left out the question of who in New York would actually believe her even if she was right. It was not the time for that.

"Ok," Allison agreed. She felt Joe cuddling up next to her. That was nice. She knew she was tired. Before she knew it, she was back asleep.

* * *

Anne Arundel County Hospital

Annapolis, Maryland

October 10, 2005

Alex Cabot exhaled deeply as she walked inside the hospital. It was her new place of work. She was a receptionist at the front desk. It was her job to guide patients and visitors to where they were supposed to be. It was not her ideal job, but it paid pretty well, and she needed to work somehow.

"Hey, Sarah," her co-worker and friend Kim greeted her from the front desk.

Alex smiled and waved back. She had been Sarah for too long. Sarah Melanie Clemens. That was the identity established for her once she left New York. As Sarah, she was from Wisconsin. Following the death of her parents, she moved to Annapolis. There were too many painful memories in Wisconsin. She exhaled deeply as she walked around and sat down in the chair next to Kim.

"Sarah, what's the date?" Kim asked. Her checkbook was in front of her.

Alex turned towards the calendar on her half of the desk. "October tenth," she answered. She then shuddered. October tenth. She had been Sarah for almost two years. She hated it. The people in Annapolis were nice, but this was not what she was supposed to do. She was meant to be a prosecutor. She was meant for the large city life. She exhaled again. She did not need to indulge in her fantasy. Otherwise, she might start to think it could come true. She knew the likelihood of that was rare.

* * *

_The restaurant was filled with smoke. It reeked of beer. The clock above the bar read one-thirty. There were only a couple of older men around it plus the bartender. Most of the men were talking amongst themselves, but there was one who was separate. Another man, younger than the first, joined him. They were both Hispanic, possibly Colombian._

_The first man had some crabs in front of him. He started pulling the legs off one at a time. He offered one to the second man, who eagerly accepted it._

_However, they were not eating legs. The legs were actually small versions of Alex. The men were breaking them in half again before they ate them. They laughed wickedly.

* * *

_

DuBois residence

Phoenix, Arizona

October 10, 2005

Allison awoke with a jump. She looked over at the clock. Luckily, it was passed seven. Joe was already in the shower. She would have hated to wake him up again. She was slightly relieved that he was not there. He could tell her it was nothing but crazy-talk, but she knew that something was up with Alex. Something was wrong. She just hoped she could find out what it was.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Mariposa County District Attorney's office

Phoenix, Arizona

October 10, 2005

Cesar Valez. That was the name from Allison's second dream. Whatever was going on with Alex, Cesar Valez was involved. As soon as she was in the D.A.'s office, Allison walked towards one of the computers. One of the secretaries, Julie, was out of town for the week. She had given Allison permission to use her computer while she was gone.

District Attorney Duvalos walked over to Allison. He saw her staring intently at the screen. However, she had not come in to his office to talk to him. "Allison, what's up?" he asked her. He motioned for her to follow him back to his office. She did.

"Does the name Cesar Valez mean anything to you?" she asked curiously once they were inside his office. She closed the door behind her.

Duvalos was about to sit down behind his desk when he picked his head up and looked at her. "Where did you hear that name?" he asked her seriously.

"In a dream," Allison answered. "Why? Who is he?"

Duvalos motioned for her to sit down. Once she did, he started talking. "Cesar Valez is a Colombian drug dealer. He supplies over ten percent of all the coke coming into the United States. He's very powerful. He'll arrange anything to make life easier for his thousands of co-conspirators in the U.S." He frowned as he turned back to Allison. "Most of his men are in the Northeast," he informed her. "Why would you be dreaming about him?"

"I've been wondering that myself," Allison admitted. "Joe thinks I'm crazy and this is just how I cope with things."

"Things?" Duvalos questioned. "What kind of things?"

"My cousin's death," Allison answered. "She's a little younger than I am. She died two years ago, and I've been having dreams about her." She ran her fingers through her hair. "Call me crazy, but I don't think she's actually dead."

"What were you thinking?" Duvalos asked her.

Allison shrugged. "I don't know. Protective custody or Witness Protection or something. I'm not entirely sure," she admitted. "I just have this feeling that wherever she is, she's in danger."

"Take the day off," Duvalos told her. "Do whatever it is you need to do on Julie's computer to convince yourself that Joe is right or that you should be helping your cousin," he said.

"Are you sure?" Allison asked. While she was more than grateful for the opportunity, she could not help but feel bad for wasting office hours to prove herself wrong or right.

Duvalos nodded. "There aren't many pending cases. I've got one appearance in court today, and this one's a simple case." He started walking to the door to let her back out. "If you need help, ask Scanlon. He had a stint in narcotics. If someone around here knows about Valez, it's him." Allison thanked him and left.

* * *

Anne Arundel County Hospital

Annapolis, Maryland

October 10, 2005

The wire was strapped to his chest and covered by his shirt. Miguel Antonio Colón was ready to go inside. He looked around at the hospital before he entered. He had to make sure that there were not too many people there. The fewer people who saw him, the better. He entered.

There she was. She was sitting at the desk. Her eyes hinted at exhaustion. Her blonde locks were pulled up into a ponytail. The ponytail was draped around her left shoulder and it was between her shoulder and her breast in length. She certainly _looked_ like Alexandra Cabot.

Miguel approached the desk frantically. "You gotta help me," he said. His accent was thick. He looked around the room. There was not a lot of commotion. It was almost too little. He frowned. Would this be crowded enough for his plan? He dismissed the thought. It was too late to go back anyway.

The woman picked up her head. "What is it?" she asked. The concern in her voice was genuine.

"My buddy was brought in here," he said. "He was hurt. I don't know how bad. They just said come here." His tone was quick. He had to get her to talk.

"It's ok," she said as she moved over towards the computer. With her fingers arched above the keyboard, she looked up at him. What is your friend's name?" she asked calmly.

"Uh, Joe," Miguel said quickly. "Joe Smith."

She raised an eyebrow at the name, but she did type it into the computer. She then shook her head. "I'm sorry, sir, but we have no records of a Joe Smith being admitted here in the past few days." She picked up the phone. "I can call other hospitals if you would like. North Arundel?" she offered.

"Yeah, that's it," Miguel said quickly. He needed to get out of there. He knew he had done what he had to do. He provided Cesar Valez with enough of a voice sample to positively ID the woman as Alexandra. "It was North Arundel, not Anne Arundel," he said quickly. "I guess I got confused. I'm very sorry for bothering you," he said as he rushed back out of there,

"It's ok," Alex called after him. "I hope your friend is ok," she added in a softer tone. She then exhaled deeply and returned to her work. Once she realized that there was nothing else to do, she started playing Solitaire on the computer.

* * *

DuBois residence

Phoenix, Arizona

October 10, 2005

"Anything pan out on your Alex search?" Joe asked as Allison sat down at the kitchen table. The monthly bills were spread out in front of her. She agreed to deal with them if Joe would cook dinner. So far, Joe was keeping his end of the bargain.

Allison shook her head. "Nothing big yet," she said. "I talked to Duvalos. He told me a little bit about Cesar Valez, the man whose name was mentioned in my second dream. He said to talk to Scanlon for further information, but Scanlon took a personal day today," she said. "I was able to find out some things about her life before she died," she added. "I have the names of some of the people she used to work with. I might give them a call tomorrow."

Joe nodded understandingly as he walked over towards her. The spaghetti was cooking fine on the stove. His wife needed a hug, so he hugged her. "You'll get to the bottom of this," he assured her.

Allison nodded and kissed his cheek. He then returned to cooking while she opened the electric bill. The pitter-patter of small feet distracted her from actually looking at the total. "Hey there, sweetie," she said as her youngest daughter, Marie, climbed into her lap.

Marie smiled as she looked up at Allison. Finger paint covered her face and lower arms, but Allison did not mind. It was adorable. Marie had a large piece of paper in her left hand. "What's that there?" Allison asked with a smile.

"Mommy's," Marie declared as she proudly handed the picture to Allison.

"Well, let's take a look at that," Joe said as he joined his wife and daughter at the table. He leaned over Allison's head to get a good look at what Marie had painted. "Allison…" he said softly.

"I know," Allison said with a small nod. Her tone was just as quiet as Joe's.

The picture in front of them was not something she would expect from a two-year-old, especially her two-year-old. She expected some sort of blobs or lines in maybe a vague idea of an actual shape or thing. That was how Ariel's and Bridget's pictures were at that age. This was different. There was a blob with yellow paint on the top of it. It had a face, and the face was unhappy. Most of the blob was painted a light blue color, but there was red coming from where the heart would be if it was human. The blob was lying sideways, and it was surrounded with black.


End file.
